Page 35 of Scars and Burns

She catches me off guard when she pins me to the tree. One by the sheer force and ability of her powers. Two by the fact that I am never on my back.

“Were you there? Did you kill her?” She asks through gritted teeth.

Impressive, how both of her blades are perfectly placed to kill with one fluid motion. Whoever taught her, taught her well. I could easily over power her. I am larger than most I come in contact with, but she is incredibly tiny. It’s a wonder her blade even reaches my throat.

She’s seething as she says, “Don’t make me ask again. Did you kill her?”

I wasn’t really listening the first time she asked me. Too taken back by her pinning me to this tree. That will have to be rectified.

Of course she wants to know if I did it. She wants answers. She wants justice.

Revenge.

I didn’t kill her Mother but I can’t let her know I was there. She’d kill me in an instant. Taking a chance, I tell another half truth and use the nickname we share from our Mother’s.

“You just did, but no little light I did not kill her.”

Just as I expected she wavers. Taking that opportunity to grab herwrists and twist us round.

This is more like it.

I push her up against the tree. Her wild flower, floral scent surrounds me. I lean down. She is intoxicating. Normally I wouldn’t do this. Not unless initiated on both sides. Women are to be respected. But she is consuming me.

Seeing her this way. She is no longer the little girl that used to play in streams with dangerous serpents. And I am no longer a little boy intrigued. I am a man, determined.

Not knowing if she has known other men. I decided to have a little fun.

For some reason the thought of her being with someone else enrages me. Though it shouldn’t. I have no claim to her.

I trail my lips up her neck to her ear. Wanting to whisper sweet words to her. The need to nip her neck invading my mind. I glide my lips across her cheek. Still not allowing my lips to meet another women’s, not even hers. I pull away.

Her heart is racing and her cheeks are flushed. Could the little light be aroused for me?

I stare directly into her eyes. Her most mesmerizing eyes. Those eyes that caught my attention from the very beginning. The most beautiful shade of purple. Still the same shade as a species of the black dahlia that flourishes in the Shadowlands. They’re deep and dark. Holding secrets only she knows. The icy blue closest to her pupils is colder than I could have imagined. Drawing me in and giving nothing away.

I’d say she’s struggling against me but she’s not really. She’s moving but not near enough to make a difference. Not near as hard as I know she can. She studies my features. My face is unmarred. Probably the only part of me that doesn’t resemble the torture I have been through. My Father needed my face. The pristine, handsome, and dark shadowprince.

Her eyes lingering on my features makes me uneasy.

What is she thinking?

I swallow. I watch her eyes follow this movement. That’s when they land on my burns.

Some are fresh from the interaction I just had with my Father. Not nearly as painful as they look. Though others are quite old. Healed now but still jarring to look at nonetheless.

I see it inside her. The darkness her Mother warned me of.

“You’re a fighter. You have so much inside of you. Rage. Fire. Shame. Guilt.” I pause, “Darkness”.

I scan her body. Her eyes are swollen from crying. Her hair is still down not having a chance to compose herself. She’s changed out of her night attire into something more conservative. Her pants are tight. Exposing her tight toned ass and lean legs. Her jacket however.

Curious.

It’s a different style than I’ve seen her wear before. Crossing into a ‘V’ barely even showing her collarbones.

I need to see it again. I need to see her Goddess mark. I trace my finger down her face, to her neck, and finally meet the fabric of her high collared jacket. Parting the fabric to expose her Goddess mark.

She’s stunned to come to the realization that I know of its existence. Not to mention its placement.

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